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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29024520">Tell Me How You Really Feel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/calico_kitten/pseuds/calic0kitt3n'>calic0kitt3n (calico_kitten)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Costume Parties &amp; Masquerades, Department of Mysteries (Harry Potter), F/M, Glamour Charms (Harry Potter), Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Humor, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Page 394 Discord's Winter Holidays Celebration, Polyjuice Potion, Severus Snape Lives, Unspeakable Draco Malfoy, Unspeakable Hermione Granger, Unspeakable Severus Snape, Whinging</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:24:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,010</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29024520</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/calico_kitten/pseuds/calic0kitt3n</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone in attendance is either glamoured or polyjuiced, but that doesn't mean that everything is a lie.</p><p> </p><p>Written for Page 394 Discord Winter Holidays Celebration. Prompt: confession</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>126</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Page 394 Discord Winter Holidays Celebration</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tell Me How You Really Feel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">



        <li>In response to a prompt by
            Anonymous in the <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/collections/00_Page_394_Winter_Holidays_Collection">00_Page_394_Winter_Holidays_Collection</a>
          collection.
        </li>
    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Typical disclaimer: I don't own these characters or their world.</p><p>I'm ever so grateful to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFrenchPress">TheFrenchPress</a> who was kind enough to beta this for me!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It had been a long day in the testing lab when Hermione was finally able to remove her protective gear - goggles, dragonhide gloves, acid-repellent lab coat - and pass it through the sterilization chamber, stowing everything in her work locker. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Looking good, Granger,” she heard over her shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She turned to see Draco Malfoy entering the locker room, marks from his own goggles making him look like some sort of albino raccoon. She rolled her eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not today, Malfoy,” she warned him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Bad day?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t know the half of it. I’m glad we’ve another long weekend coming up.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re coming to the New Year’s party next week, right?.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do I really have any choice? They said it’s mandatory.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Draco chuckled. “Forced fun. Only at the Ministry,” he mused.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t see how anyone would know if I skipped out. We all have to come polyjuiced or glamoured.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sure Beckett would figure it out.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione sighed. “I suppose you’re right. Do you know if Tori is planning on coming around on Friday?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She mentioned something about it, yeah. That alright?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Brilliant, some of the other girls are coming over too.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll let her know.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione had been looking forward to this day for several weeks. Christmas fell on a Thursday that year, which meant a long weekend and some of her favourite people were coming for a Boxing Day brunch. She was the only one of them who worked in the Department of Mysteries, however, and was complaining to them about the upcoming New Year’s Eve party.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know, I’m rather looking forward to it,” commented Astoria.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right, but you get to come with Draco, so you’ll know at least one person.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Actually, we’re coming as each other. No one will believe that Draco actually works.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The girls laughed, well aware that Draco continued to exude the smarmy, obscenely rich persona when out in public. It had become a bit of a game for him and solidified a public image that kept his private and even work life completely, well, private.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are you planning on going as? Or whom?” inquired Ginny. Even the question sounded absurd.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione explained her idea for a glamour as she’d gotten quite good at them, unbeknownst anyone not within her inner circle.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A few of them offered some other ideas, but then the subject changed soon after to Christmas gifts and the latest Ministry scuttlebutt, which didn’t terribly interest Hermione, but it was a nice distraction.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The day of the party had arrived at last. Hermione had been holding out for an owl that had said “Only joking, come as yourself”, but one never came. There had never been any sort of holiday party the previous five years Hermione had worked there, but the memo had said it was to boost morale. Hermione was rather certain it wasn’t going to do anything for her morale. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Glamouring herself to appear as a wizard seemed the safest course of action, though it meant making herself taller, charming her hair into a sleek man-bun, and transforming her curves into angular lines. As she gave herself a bit of facial hair, she felt a strange and sudden kinship to one of her great aunts that sported a rather robust moustache. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She pulled on the plain clothing she’d laid out the day before and charmed them to fit: black denims, plain white tee, and a charcoal and black striped jumper. She had unfortunately forgotten all about shoes and found herself floo-ing to the Potter’s, hoping to borrow a pair of Harry’s brogues.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mione?” asked a very confused Harry. He knew she’d be arriving as a man, but was still surprised at the face that appeared as she stepped through his floo. It was obvious it was her, however, by the way she was chewing her lip and furrowing her eyebrows the way she always did when she was worked up about something.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hi Harry, you wouldn’t happen to have a pair of brogues I could borrow for the evening, would you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh, sure, ‘Mione. Just remember… well, your voice.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Merlin, in the rush to get ready she’d forgotten about that bit. She cast a quick charm that altered her voice and slipped on her friend’s footwear.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She had to remind herself that she couldn’t hide behind her hair and that it didn’t matter - she was in a huge ballroom full of people who were polyjuiced or otherwise heavily disguised. The very idea threatened to give her a headache. So she did what she did best at pointless social functions: grabbed some snacks, a glass of wine, and headed for the nearest available corner. She had been there for a good thirty or forty minutes when a witch approached her table.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mind if I join you, love?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione cleared her throat and hoped that she managed to sound like the wizard she was posing as.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She took the moment to observe her new companion. She seemed to be in her late thirties with dark eyes and straight brown hair, the sort Hermione always wished she had, that was cut in a bob and pinned back on one side. She was wearing dark stockings and… was that dress made of silk? Hermione glanced down at her own nondescript jumper and trousers combo and sighed at her lack of effort. She could have worn anything in the world, acted however she pleased, and yet she still tried to blend into the shadowy corner of the room. She chalked it up to the fact that she had no interest in being there in the first place. Every other department had normal parties with normal holiday activities with everyone wearing their normal faces, but not hers. She secretly hoped it was one of the other witches from her sector and she could stop pretending.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The witch had brought her own drink and plate.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You sure?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, s’fine. I’m just not much for office parties.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Me either. Or any parties when it comes to it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, you’ve come to the right table then.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The witch gave her an uncomfortable smile, as if weighing out if she actually wanted to sit there or not.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione glanced up to see Draco and Astoria sweeping into the room fashionably late. Draco was trying not to stumble in his heels, but Astoria had Draco’s entire demeanour down pat, even to the smirk on his face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How tacky,” murmured the witch.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hmm?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Parading about as the Malfoys. But it has to be someone who knows them - Draco is rather convincing, anyway.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know, it seems like a good disguise. As if Draco would ever stoop to work for the Ministry.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You mean as if the Ministry would ever stoop to hiring him.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione raised a brow. “Oh really? Though I suppose he isn’t everyone’s favourite.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The witch regarded her thoughtfully and Hermione looked away, avoiding the dark eyes that bored into her, reminding her of someone familiar. Perhaps it was the eye-colour that was throwing her off. In any case, she was most definitely not one of her regular co-workers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione quickly changed the subject. “So what are your hobbies?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do Unspeakables have time for hobbies?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well surely there’s something…” Merlin above, she was rubbish at making small talk, but this witch seemed to be worse than her about it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I like to study plants. And read.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I like reading as well,” she chirped before remembering that she was presently a wizard and wizards DID NOT chirp, especially not like she normally did. “When I have time, of course,” she added a bit more subdued.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you read?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll read nearly anything, though I’ve been perusing some potions texts lately. Nothing work-related, of course.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And what did you think of them?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well clearly some of the recent developments out of Sweden need to be taken seriously, but I think it’s best to be prudent.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wholeheartedly agree.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, you didn’t say you like potions.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’d rather thought it went with studying plants.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I suppose so,” Hermione conceded.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not everyone can afford to have a Herbologist on hand.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione nearly said something about Neville, who she did in fact have on hand more or less, but caught herself in time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You were going to say?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, it’s nothing. Shall I get you another drink?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you, that would be lovely.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione got up and made her way across the room to the drink table. Draco, who was disguised as Astoria, was nearby.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey Malfoy,” she said quietly. “How are you holding up?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll make it, thanks to the cushioning charm on these shoes. Who’s your new friend?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione rolled her eyes. “Your guess is as good as mine. I don’t think it’s anyone in our sector. You want to come say hello?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why not?” Draco replied with a shrug. He crossed the floor slowly, attempting to hide his slight wobble.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione handed the witch one of the drinks and pulled out a chair for Draco, being the gentlewizard that she was.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hello, darling,” he said to the witch, doing his best Astoria impression.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hi, love. Come to hide in the corner with us, then?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I had to meet the witch was who was keeping this charmer company, hmm?” He winked at Hermione who hid her laugh by drinking her wine.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The other witch merely pursed her lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your impression of Astoria is quite amusing,” was her sole reply.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, you know her?” Draco asked, feigning surprise.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not terribly well, but yes,” she admitted. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The gears began turning in Draco’s head and he knew Hermione was thinking the same thing: <em>Who is this witch?</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How droll,” Draco chortled. “Is it true that she’s not the snobby bint everyone thinks she is?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s not the impression that I’ve gotten from her.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My date came as Draco,” Draco continued. “You know him as well?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, I suppose so. But he’s always been a prat, so some rumours are true.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Draco’s eye twitched and he wondered for a split second if it was a Weasley in front of him and then he remembered that none of them were Unspeakables. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione arched an eyebrow. “I’ve never had the pleasure of knowing either of them,” she remarked, feigning boredom. “What about you then, since you’re impersonating them?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not very well at all, really. Only from a distance.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That explains a few things,” said the other witch.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Such as?” Draco inquired.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Draco over there looks like he’s actually having a good time.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione snickered, earning herself a kick from Draco as he crossed his legs the other way. She bit back what she really wanted to say then. Bastard.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Astoria meandered their way through the sea of people and tables as Draco waved her over. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Draco, darling, this witch thinks you’re having far too good a time for the face that you’re wearing.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah well, so long as no one tells him,” Astoria grinned and winked.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione let out a deep chuckle.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The conversation continued to flow effortlessly, even after Draco and Astoria drifted over to the dance floor to join the other couples who were already entwined with one another.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The evening seemed to have flown by, when the witch asked abruptly, “Would you care to dance?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione nearly choked, surprised by the question. The night had just gone from tolerable to wretched in a matter of seconds.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m afraid I’m not a very good dancer,” she lied, hoping to deter the witch.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s alright, you can just follow my lead. Humour me, yes?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With a sigh, she found herself rising to her feet and letting the small witch pull her along until they were ensconced in the crowd of couples. Hesitantly, she put one hand on the witch’s waist and joined the other with the one awaiting her own. It was rather obvious that she was actually a rather good dancer, even if she had much larger feet than usual.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why did you lie?” the witch inquired, tempting Hermione to meet her gaze.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“About?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Clearly you know how to dance.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, you know, I’m hardly myself tonight and one never knows,” she replied, adding another layer to her lie.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I understand completely,” she nodded. “But if you really didn’t want to, you could have said ‘no’.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione exhaled and looked down into the small witch’s dark eyes and a flicker of recognition sparked again. This was without a doubt someone she knew well, but who was doing a fine job at leading her astray. But who could it be?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This might be the worst Ministry party I’ve ever attended,” continued the witch.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How is that?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s all a load of thestral shite. I mean, I suppose it’s like fancy dress taken to another level of insanity, but I already have to work with some of these twats, why on earth would I want to be at a party with them? Present company excluded, of course.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No offense taken,” Hermione chuckled. “Is this the part where I ask ‘Tell me how you really feel?’”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The witch tittered. The song ended and the two of them made their way over to the drinks table.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I have a confession to make,” the witch announced once they had glasses in hand.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Which is?” Hermione asked, eyebrow raised.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I lied earlier. This isn’t the worst party ever. That honour is reserved for the first anniversary ball that Shacklebolt inflicted upon us.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The one where someone accidentally invited a hag who then promptly tried to curse every wizard in the room?” she chortled.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I was thinking more about the boring speeches that went on for hours. Ceremonial pomp can go take a flying leap for all I care.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione, who had been one of said speech-givers, replied stiffly, “Well it was hardly the fault of the presenters that he asked so many people to speak.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The witch smirked up at her and her dark eyes shone with mirth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Struck a nerve, have I?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s nothing,” she mumbled.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mmm. You aren’t the best at charades, are you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There’s a reason you’re not in the DMLE, even though they wanted you. Isn’t there?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s alright, they wanted me, too, but I told them, in the rudest way possible, that I would never work for them.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You didn’t!” Hermione exclaimed, abandoning all shock at being unmasked.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I told them the only place I would work in the Ministry was the Department of Mysteries, so they quickly offered me a job there instead. Rather desperate of them, in my opinion. But then, they had recently had a change of heart about me and thought it would be a gesture of goodwill to offer me a place.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So what did you do before then?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh no, we mustn’t give everything away in one go, must we?” she laughed. “It wasn’t that I hated my job. I simply needed a change of scenery. Too many bad memories.” She paused as a wizard came through refilling their glasses. “What about you, love? What did you do before?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“If you know me, then you are already aware,” Hermione replied playfully.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Play along anyway?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I was a student. This is my first job.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The witch’s eyes glittered.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I imagine that you’re rather good at it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you think your professors are proud of what you’ve made of yourself?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Most of them.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not all?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There was one who never seemed terribly interested in me succeeding.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How so?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He thought I merely memorised the textbook verbatim and did little thinking on my own. Which was mostly true, but only because I was taught to believe that textbooks were infallible. I assumed that his were, anyway.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sounds like an awful wizard.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione shrugged.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He was often rather unkind in the way he went about things, but I learned a great deal from him.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sure he’d be glad to hear that.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wouldn’t know. He’s never returned my messages, so I eventually stopped with the exception of cards at Christmas.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Perhaps he is ashamed.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione snorted. “Or annoyed, more likely.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What was the name of this professor?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Severus Snape.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That old git?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s hardly old. Not for a wizard. And I don’t think he’s a git either.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I do.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He had other things on his mind at the time.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The witch waggled an eyebrow and Hermione’s cheeks darkened.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not those sorts of things,” she insisted.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The witch looked like she was about to say something else, but just as she opened her mouth, Draco, who had been growing steadily more bored by the hour, happened upon them again and placed a hand on Hermione’s arm.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dance with me, wizard,” he said saucily. She rolled her eyes, but apologised to the witch and went with him anyway.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tori leave you for someone else?” she murmured, smirking.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She’s over there telling ridiculous stories that people are just eating up. Frankly I’m tired of wearing these clothes and want to go home.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So instead you’ve invited me to dance so that you can whinge freely?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Am I so transparent?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Absolutely, Malfoy. It’s why we work so well together.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He laughed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Merlin, that witch not grown bored of you yet?” They could both see that she was watching them with interest.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She knows who I am, Malfoy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh really?” he asked, now even more interested. “And what were you speaking about just now?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She asked if I thought my professors were proud of how I turned out, or some similar rubbish.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course they are, you’re the Golden Girl.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“When I told her about Snape, she called him an old git, which of course I said he wasn’t.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh really?” He glanced covertly over at the witch once more.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Draco wondered if it was perhaps his godfather after all. He knew that he was an Unspeakable as well, but had no idea what sector he worked in. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s here somewhere, you know.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione’s cheeks darkened. “I can’t believe I forgot.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You mean you passed on the chance to sneakily spend an entire evening with him,” Draco teased.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s never worked out well in my favour.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just because he refused to give you the time of day at my Hallowe’en party…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That was horridly embarrassing. Someone must have told him. Promise me you’ve never told him.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What? That you’ve been carrying a torch for him for the last two years?” Draco snickered.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shhh!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Draco gave a very Astoria giggle.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m serious,” Hermione hissed. “The man has never so much as smiled as me. I must be the biggest idiot in the wizarding world.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But as Hermione looked around once more, she could no longer find the witch.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you see her anywhere?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No. Good one, Granger. With any luck, she’s gone and told Snape.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shut it, Malfoy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She glanced down at her watch.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s nearly midnight. You’d better go find Tori before she ends up snogging someone else.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Draco laughed. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You think everyone wants a kiss from Draco Malfoy, is that it?” he asked cheekily.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Everyone but me, Malfoy. Not to worry.” Hermione grimaced and shoved him away in the direction of his wife.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">‘And now to find somewhere to avoid someone kissing me,’ she thought as her eyes flicked about, looking for somewhere to hide. She was saved when she saw a door that led to a balcony. It was dark when she opened it and she sighed with relief. She could hear the countdown coming from inside.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thirty-nine, Thirty-eight, Thirty-seven..”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Just as she had gotten comfortable, the door opened and closed behind her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She swore and turned around, only to be faced with the small witch who had successfully monopolized her evening.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thirty-two, Thirty-one…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The witch looked at her tentatively.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I have another confession to make.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s that?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The petite witch suddenly shot up in height and Hermione found herself to be standing in front of the one and only Severus Snape, peering at her with those fathomless eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It appears, Miss Granger, that I owe you an apology. And I didn’t fancy doing it wearing a stranger’s face.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her brown eyes grew round as saucers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Snape?” she said stupidly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“For Merlin’s sake, drop your glamour, no one will know.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But… oh shit…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Language, Miss Granger.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right, deep breaths,” she whispered to herself.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I shouldn’t have misled you, but…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Hermione let her glamours drop and spelled her clothing to fit again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Was Draco telling the truth earlier? About you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her head snapped up at that.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What… what do you mean?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“About your… interest in me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I mean, I…” She licked her lips nervously. “I meant no offence.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thirteen, Twelve…” continued the count inside.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t see why you think I’d be offended.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But - Godric’s knees, you…” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She backed toward the railing and Snape followed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Perhaps I should have just invited you to lunch,” he stated.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Would you have come?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Y-yes. Of course.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dinner?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes,” she agreed breathlessly. He was only inches away now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Two! One!” they heard from inside.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pulled Hermione to him and crushed his lips to hers so intensely that her toes curled.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When they separated a few moments later, Hermione felt wobbly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Perhaps we should leave then?” she suggested feebly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think that would be wise,” he concluded. “Though I’ll let you choose where.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He settled into Hermione’s wingback at her insistence and told her the whole story over post-midnight tea.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had been following her academic career off and on through Potions journals, feeling guilty when he learned that she had been forced to do her Mastery abroad as the new Potions professor at Hogwarts refused to take on someone who he hadn’t personally taught. When she had applied as a Potioneer for the Department’s testing lab, he wondered how she would fare. She quickly proved herself by finding workarounds to stabilise otherwise volatile potions and, of all things, making Polyjuice somewhat more palatable - all within her first several months. He gleaned other bits and pieces when they came to light in his own sector, Intelligence, of which he was in charge. More often than not, her discoveries were then modified to suit his own purposes, though she was never officially notified. He had grown to appreciate her immensely and had considered briefly whether he should communicate this, but he kept himself busy instead.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was only at the most recent Hogwarts memorial event the year before, when he finally took any notice of her as a person at all.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No offence,” he apologised.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“None taken.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She refilled his tea and let him continue.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He had every intention of speaking to her there, until the moment that she appeared, beautiful, confident, and chatting animatedly with her old classmates. He’d gotten cold feet and left as soon as the event ended.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">From there he had spent the next six months thinking about how to even speak with her without causing alarm. He’d snubbed her at Draco’s party because she was kitted up as a voluptuous vampire and he was afraid he’d say something stupid, so he left the party instead. He didn’t know what her opinion of him was, so instead he had thought up this idea of a party where everyone was completely disguised. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Leave it to a Slytherin to find the least vulnerable, and most roundabout means of having a conversation with someone, Hermione mused silently.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You did all that just to talk to me? Seems a bit extreme, don’t you think?” She tittered nervously.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I found it worthwhile in the end.” He sat down his mug and rose to his feet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So did I,” she offered in reassurance, standing as well. Did he want to leave? Did he need something else?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know that it’s no longer midnight,” he began cautiously, stepping towards her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I hardly think that it matters.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Perhaps I should take you to dinner first.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think you should afterward.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He studied her for a moment before pulling her into his arms, lips crashing against hers as the rest of their insecurities melted away.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div></div>
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